


Without Camelot's Protector

by Impala_Cherry_Trickster



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: BAMF Merlin (Merlin), Camelot, Canon Era, Confused Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Dragonlord Merlin (Merlin), Druids, Gen, Good Morgana (Merlin), Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Immortality, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Unicorns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-07
Updated: 2020-07-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:08:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,723
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25125211
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impala_Cherry_Trickster/pseuds/Impala_Cherry_Trickster
Summary: Merlin's away from Camelot when the threat comes, but it doesn't mean he can't help
Relationships: Merlin & Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin & Morgana (Merlin)
Comments: 23
Kudos: 513
Collections: Emrys is a mess





	Without Camelot's Protector

Camelot’s warning bell rang, and Arthur looked to his Knights. Overhead, the sky was dark, the moon barely illuminating the threat that stood beyond the boundary. Hundreds of men, more than they could ever hope to face. The sound of rubble being thrown at the walls sounded, a threat from the continent that Arthur had no idea how to face.

‘Do you have a plan, Sire?’ They were going to die. Arthur couldn’t hold the walls forever, not even with Morgana’s assistance. He sought her out now, found her by one of the walls, aiding those that had been hit. His Knights, bloody and tired, with no hope of making it to dawn unless something drastically changed.

‘We cannot overpower them.’ Arthur slowly remarked, looking to his five Knights. He asked so much of them, and in return, he’d failed to keep them safe. Camelot would fall before morning, long before his allies could come to his aid. He didn’t even have Merlin, what with the manservant and Gwen travelling North over a week ago to seek out the Druids to aid Morgana with her Magic. It had been Arthur’s order, and he was glad he’d done it, knowing they would be safe away from this battle.

‘Arthur!’ Morgana called for him, and he looked across to find her running in his direction, eyes wide and her hands clutching at her skirts. He was ready to give the order to surrender, to hope that his sister and Knights might be spared, that the citizens of Camelot would live, even if he could not.

‘What’s wrong?’ But she did not reply, gripped his arm and tugged him away. His Knights followed as they ran across the courtyard, dodging the falling buildings and the fire that rained down, up the steps and into the Castle. Morgana weaved in and out of the people running, led him towards the tunnels that were used to save them from a siege.

‘We cannot run!’ Arthur protested, horrified that his sister even considered a fact, but he was silenced when he spotted someone running down the tunnel. A flash of a dark blue cape, of a tiny frame covered completely, and Arthur’s heart almost stopped when he realised it was Guinevere.

‘Gwen.’ Elyan flung himself forwards, wrapped her up in his arms and held her tightly. Above them, the Castle groaned under the attack, the walls shuddering as they threatened to fall.

‘We have to surrender. They might spare you.’ Arthur stated firmly, but Gwen’s head rose.

‘No! Arthur, you just need to hold on. We’ve got help coming.’ Hope, it was dangerous at the best of times, but he knew his men would latch onto this. He stared at Guinevere, begged her to continue, but she shook her head.

‘I don’t know who. Merlin told me to get the message, he’s injured, but he’s bringing us help.’ Merlin, his idiot manservant that could barely keep himself upright, was apparently going to turn the tide on a war that they were losing quicker than anyone could have predicted.

‘Sire, trust him. Merlin’s never failed you before.’ Lancelot cut in, beseeching him to listen, and Arthur grimaced. If he waited any longer, they would not spare his Knights or friends. They would kill everyone, and Arthur would have to admit defeat.

‘He has until the first gate is breeched.’

**

He dug his fingers in deeper, dragged himself a little further across the ground. Merlin was more than aware of the fact he was dying, even his Magic had decided he wasn’t worth saving. Another movement, pushing himself towards the boat, needing to get to the Isle of the Blessed if he was to stand any chance of surviving till dawn. The night was progressing, and by now, the Dragons would have received his command.

Morgana was the Seer. Yet he was the one that dreamt of Arthur’s death, of his pale face stained with blood as the Castle crumbled, as his Knights surrendered to the army in front. There were hundreds of them, more than Camelot could withstand, and so he had to act. He had sent Gwen on her horse, regardless of the wound that he had, told her to get to Camelot and to tell Arthur to hold out against the threat.

Then, Merlin had taken the role that he had never accepted. King of the Druids, asked his people for the assistance he needed. A spell, far more complex than he had ever attempted before, to summon the Magical creatures of Albion to assist in protecting Camelot. Druids, Sorcerers, anyone that had a link to the Old Religion. They would here his pleading to save the King of Camelot.

With his job done, Merlin had opted for sending them away. Some had tried to stay, Druids offering to carry him to the Isle of the Blessed so that the wound could be healed, but he denied them. They needed to save Arthur, he could deal with himself later.

His fingers hit the wood, dragging his body up and over into the sodden vessel. His side was still bleeding, a hand clamped over it to try and preserve what little he had left, but Merlin knew he didn’t have long.

He could only hope that the people answered his pleas.

**

‘Sire, you should see this.’ Arthur stood on the ramparts, looking out across the fields surrounding Camelot. The army that had them surrounded was no longer solely focused on them, for there was a second enemy.

Wyverns. A great storm of them, leathery wings flickering in the light of the fires, red eyes standing out amongst the darkness as they attacked the camps around the edges. Then there was the creature in the sky, the colour of snow, with the brightest blue eyes. A Dragon, he concluded, looking to his sister as she called out for it.

‘Aithusa!’ The Dragon turned, swooping down with a screech, fire racing over the warriors trying to break down the outer wall.

‘Sire!’ Someone shouted from the other watch tower, and Arthur ran towards them. He ducked the rubble still being hurled, avoided a fallen Knight and the blood that seeped out across the stone, looked out to where his Knights were pointing.

People. A group of them, probably around eighty in numbers, with eyes the colour of the sun that had not yet risen.

‘Magic.’ He whispered, turning to where his sister was throwing a spell at a man trying to use a ladder to breach the walls.

‘Your orders, Sire?’ Were they really on his side? Druids, sorcerers, Wyverns and Dragons? Why had they come to the fight? He looked back to his sister, waiting for an explanation, but none was offered.

‘Defend the Castle. They’re on our side.’ The Knight bowed his head, ran off as quickly as he could, and Arthur turned back to the battlefield.

‘Could Merlin really have done that?’ Leon murmured, like he didn’t really want Arthur to hear it. The King was still confused, how had anybody, let alone Merlin, managed to unite such a force?

He didn’t get the answer to his question, because a burst of the brightest gold came from the horizon. A cracking sound filled the air, deafening all those around, and Arthur shook away the ringing in his ears to note that the battle had paused for a moment. Everybody in unison, turning to where the light had spilled out from, waiting to see what had just exploded.

‘Emrys.’ Morgana whispered, and Arthur halted. He’d heard of the prophecies, but he had never believed them. Not till he saw the creatures that came to protect Camelot. To protect him.

‘Is he alive?’ Gwen pleaded, looking to Morgana, who turned to stare at the group with worry.

‘He has to be.’

**

‘I did not expect your assistance.’ Merlin grumbled, rising up out of the crater that had formed as he died. The High Priestess snorted, offered out her hand for him to clasp, the two of them stumbling over the dirt and away from the destroyed Isle.

‘We should get to Camelot. You have an army to defeat.’ Morgause supplied. Merlin had only met her on a handful of occasions, to discuss the prophecy that he was supposed to fulfil. That, together, they could reunite the lands of Albion and bring Magic back. As it turned out, that moment was upon them, and Morgause looked ready for the fight.

‘You swore you’d keep Morgana and Arthur safe.’ Merlin dusted himself down as he spoke, reached a hand to the wound that he had died from. Where it had been, a single raised line remained. Immortality seemed to be a better benefit than he had first anticipated.

‘And I will. But for now, we need a ride to Camelot.’ He looked out to the forest, then reached out with his Magic. It was stronger than before, bubbled under his skin like it was ready to burst. It crept out like a wave, rushed over the forest and called for assistance.

‘That was not what I thought would answer your call.’ Morgause looked surprised when the creature moved forwards, bowing down low as she approached. The High Priestess reached out, brushed a hand up the muzzle and to the horn that made it different from any other horse.

A Unicorn. He supposed he should have laughed, a creature so pure and perfect, coming to the aid of the Warlock that was about to kill hundreds of people. Morgause swung up onto the back, then offered out her hand.

‘The son of the Sea, Land and Sky. Why am I even surprised?’ She quipped, while Merlin accepted her hand and climbed up behind her.

**

‘We’re still losing.’ Arthur muttered, Leon panting by his side. The army may have been battered away by the Dragon that had fallen into the burnt land between them, by the Druids that had fallen quiet as the army began to approach. The Wyverns were either dead or dying, and there were still too many people to face. Arthur had gathered the last of the Knights, ordered the Gates to be opened so they could attack, and he watched as the army appeared in front.

‘By your side, Sire.’ Leon swore, and Arthur drew him in for a quick hug. The others joined, manly slapping of the back and murmured goodbyes, before they drew their swords.

‘For Camelot!’ Arthur called, and the Knights echoed his words. The charge began, running across the uneven ground towards the enemy, before another screech filled the air.

They drew to a halt, Arthur stumbling as the Dragon rose its head once more, fire racing out to stop them from moving further. Before the King could wonder why it had turned sides, shouting filled the air, the army opposite turning their attention away from Arthur and onto two people riding out onto the battlefield.

A Unicorn. The colour of snow, much like the one he had killed, that skidded to a halt. On its back, a woman that he recognised as Morgause, the High Priestess that he had been told was dead. She had a sword at her side, looked across the battlefield and spotted him, drew her sword and then turned towards the army.

She dismounted smoothly, leaving the Unicorn carrying a singular person, one that he recognised all too well.

Merlin.

**

‘Get to the King!’ Merlin shouted to Morgause, who took off across the ground. The Warlock turned his attention to the armies, clicked his tongue to his steed and urged her to canter towards where Aithusa had fallen. His Hatchling croaked as he approached, worn out and injured, but he would survive.

‘Aithusa.’ He whispered, broken, then looked out to the approaching armies. They had been attacked by those that he had called for, but there were still far too many, and Merlin had no choice but to use his Magic. He tipped his head back to the sky, let his eyes shut and felt for the Magic that tethered him to the earth, let out the most inhumane sound he had ever heard as he begged for the assistance he needed.

His Magic responded just as he knew it would. Just as the sun began to peek over the horizon, the clouds formed so he could summon the storm, the wind beginning to pick up at his command. Then came the earth, cracks forming across the grass as plants began to creep out, vines that raced across the distance to attack. Fire was his next choice, choosing to brighten the torches that the army wielded, until they spat fire at those who tried to hold them. The wind rushed between them, feeding the fire as it caught, and the men began to scream.

An entire army trapped by their own fire, Merlin staying seated despite the fact that the storm wrapped around the three of them, him, his hatchling and his steed. It was a blurred mess of flying rubble and armour, of men that cried out as the Druids began to chant once more, enhancing the attack of Magic against those that dared to stand against Camelot. Against Albion, against the King that Merlin would always protect.

When the storm finally released its hold on the clouds, the rain began. Those who hadn't been killed by the fire or the vines quickly tried to flee, but they would not get very far. Not with the spells being hurled in their direction, the Druid army approaching him as they continued to chant.

The greatest army Albion had ever seen, protecting his King just as they asked.

**

Morgause watched as her King turned to seek them out, to check on Arthur, who was by her side. He had fallen very silent during the display of strength, when Emrys controlled each of the elements like it was the simplest thing he had ever done. She had heard the Uncle of the Druid-King whisper his name like a prayer, heard Morgana’s gasp as a band of golden wrapped around his head like a crown.

When the army were dead, scattered like leaves, the King turned to his people. The Druids and Sorcerers had flocked to the City, now stood on the grass and looked to the man mounted on a Unicorn, still drenched in blood and with a crown of gold.

One by one, they dropped to their knees, a symbol of respect. Morgause left the King of Camelot, moved across to Emrys, drove her sword into the ground and dropped to one knee. Quickly rushing to join, Morgana came to her side, before Merlin dismounted the horse in one smooth movement and wrapped her up in a hug.

**

‘Steady! You’ll tear your stitches if you keep moving.’ Merlin scolded the young Knight gently, watched as he thanked him and then scurried away so quickly that the Warlock snorted. He looked out across the Courtyard, to where the people of Camelot were beginning to rebuild, then to where Morgause was standing. The High Priestess had stayed after the battle, to help organise the efforts of rebuilding. While Merlin went to tend to the injured, Arthur finally snapped out of his daze and got his Knights to start moving rubble.

‘Emrys!’ Merlin had to stop falling for that, turned his head to Morgana before he could stop himself. She was supporting an injured Knight, Gwen on the man’s other side, and he rushed across to help. It wasn’t a difficult injury to tend to, but once he was done, he was feeling significantly more tired than possible.

‘Arthur keeps staring at me.’ Merlin grumbled to the King’s sister, watched as Morgana chuckled.

‘You did just annihilate an army.’ He blushed, more because he hadn't quite expected the flood of power that had raced through his veins, nor the people of Camelot that now bowed their head to him as he walked through the streets.

‘I was protecting Arthur.’ He pointed out, like it explained everything. As if he had heard his name, Arthur rose his head, looked across to him and Merlin’s breath caught.

The King smiled slowly, gave a steady nod, and Merlin relaxed.

They’d have to talk about this eventually, but for now, Merlin had to help his Uncle with the injured.

**Author's Note:**

> Idk where this came from tbh


End file.
